


Freak

by Shelly_Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelly_Holmes/pseuds/Shelly_Holmes
Summary: Prompt:What if one day John just becomes incredibly irritated with Sherlocks shenanigans that he suddenly can’t help himself and says something along the lines of “Can you stop being such a freak and just act normal for once?” And Sherlock just kinda freezes and he let’s shock and pure pain show for just a moment as he says- “You’re the only one who never called me that.” And John feels sick as he watches Sherlock put up every barrier he’d put down especially for John. Feels disgusted with himself as Sherlock’s expression turns indifferent and professional towards the only man he’d allowed himself to call a friend.(Optional protective Mycroft, because I absolutely love the idea of their brotherly relationship, and I really just wish they would be kind to each other.)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	Freak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miscellaneous_Artiste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miscellaneous_Artiste/gifts).



> you asked for it so here you go! @ineffablygayomens

They were looking at a murder that Lestrade had called them in for. Sherlock had already been irritating on the way to the crime scene, but after his this-is-all-so-obvious-and-easy talk, John just lost it.   
“Can you just not act like a freak for one?!”, John yelled at Sherlock. Sherlock froze and looked like he had been slapped across the face. “You… you were the only person who had never called me that.” Sherlock whispered. John felt the words like a punch into his stomach. And then he saw Sherlock putting up all his barriers again. His posture stiffened; his face was wiped from all emotions. “I’m sorry Sherlock, I didn’t mean to-” He started not knowing where this sentence would end. But Sherlock just turned around and said to Greg: “The murder has to be a co-worker, start there.” And then he left. John looked at Greg. He did not know what to do. “I fucked up”, he just said. “You did”, Greg agreed. John was so angry at himself. How could he ever say such a thing? He punched the wall next to him. “Easy”, said Greg and put his hand on John’s arm. “We can’t have you punching holes into the walls.” John’s hand throbbed in pain, but he did not care. “I need to talk to him”, he said and rushed out the door, leaving Greg behind.   
When John arrived at Baker Street, Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table, looking through his microscope. He did not move when John came in. “Sherlock, listen”, John started, but Sherlock just said, “leave it John, it’s okay.” “No, it’s-” John started one more time, but was interrupted. “I need to focus, John. It’s fine.” John knew it was not fine, but he also knew it made no sense talking to Sherlock like this. He sat down in his armchair and started reading, waiting for Sherlock to be ready to listen to his apology. But when Sherlock was done in the kitchen, he just took his coat and rushed downstairs. John had fallen asleep while waiting for Sherlock and when he woke up the next morning Sherlock was asleep in his bed. He knew Sherlock did not want to talk to him. John knew he was hurt. John was his only friend. And now this one person Sherlock had trusted in a long time, had called him a freak just like all the others did.   
Sherlock could not sleep. When he heard John walk up to his bedroom, he closed his eyes, but when he heard John’s steps leave again, he was wide awake. He understood now what Mycroft had tried to tell him. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage. Was this what a broken heart felt like? Could a platonic relationship even result in a broken heart? He thought John could be an exception to all the people who hated him for his deductions, but it turned out, it just took John longer to realise. When did he start to grow tired of it? Why hadn’t he noticed? Why did he ever start to think that he had found a permanent companion, who actually liked him for the things all the others hated. It was after this long night of never-ending thoughts that Sherlock swore to never let anyone come close to his heart again so he would never have to endure these feelings again. The words kept echoing inside his head. Freak. He did not even know why it bothered him so much. A lot of people called him a freak. Sherlock had just brushed it off. It was just a word after all. But somehow it had hurt him so bad when John said it. 

John was at the end of his wits. During the day Sherlock had not left his room and John felt like he would not get a chance to beg for forgiveness. Because that was what he was trying to do. He wanted to tell Sherlock how sorry he was over and over again until the man could possibly forgive him. He never wanted to hurt Sherlock like this. So, after a long day of waiting for Sherlock to come out to at least eat something, John decided to call the only person that knew Sherlock even better than John. 

“Watson? What is the matter?”  
“Mycroft, I need help. I have made a huge mistake and Sherlock hasn’t left his room all day. I don’t know what to do.”  
A long pause.  
“Alright, I am on my way.”

John sat in his chair and fumbled anxiously at the sleeve of his jumper. It felt like an eternity until he heard the door and footsteps on the stairs. Mycroft opened the door to the flat and John jumped to his feet. “You should not have said it, Watson”, Mycroft said and glared at John in a way that took all his willpower not to look away. “You know?”, he asked. He wondered if Sherlock had told him. “The Inspector informed me”, Mycroft explained. John nodded. He could have guessed. It seemed like the two of them had regular contact. Mycroft surely kept in contact with the people working with his brother. “I don’t know what to do”, John said, “I just need to tell him how sorry I am.” Mycroft looked like he had eaten something bitter, but he said: “Fine, I will talk to him.” John was relieved. 

Sherlock heard steps coming towards the door. It was Mycroft. What time was it? Had John called him? The door was opened, and Mycroft sat down on the chair across the room from the bed. “Don’t pretend like you’re asleep. You know better than that.” Sherlock sat up and glared at his brother. “What do you want?”, he hissed. Mycroft looked at him calmly and said: “Doctor Watson called me. What do you think you are doing?” “He thinks I am a freak.” Sherlock spat out the words. “Everyone does”, Mycroft said still with no emotion in his voice. “He did not.” Sherlock felt anger rise in his chest. “Sherlock”, Mycroft said, and he sounded soft almost. “John has been in his chair all day, waiting to apologise to you. It is just a word after all. Just get down there.” Sherlock did not respond, but Mycroft stood up and left. 

When he heard footsteps, John stood up from his chair again. “He will be down in a few minutes”, Mycroft said and walked towards the door. “Thanks” was the only thing John could say and Mycroft was gone. John waited and listened for any noises from Sherlock’s room. After what felt like an eternity, he heard steps. Sherlock appeared in the door and stood there, looking at John. “Sherlock”, John said. He was a little unsure, but he had had a lot of time to think about what he wanted to say. “I am so sorry for what I said. You are not a freak. You are the most extraordinary man I have ever met. I wish I could just take back what I said. You need to believe me. We both know people sometimes find it difficult to be around you, but to me it is an honour and a gift that I get to work with someone as genius as you are.” John felt tears in his eyes and covered his face. He did not want Sherlock to see it. But after a few moments he felt long arms around his shoulders. Sherlock Holmes was hugging him. “You are the first one to apologise.” Sherlock's voice was remarkably close to his ear. He could feel his warm breath. John relaxed and lifted his head. Sherlock let go of him and John rubbed his eyes before he looked up. “Are we good?”, he asked. “Of course, we are”, Sherlock said as if it was a stupid question to even ask. John laughed. “You should eat something. Let’s order.”


End file.
